Once Upon a Dragon
In a field of lavender the old woman slept. Into a deep sleep, in her fine silk pajamas, the fire softly crept.
Yellow was the morning the black dragon came to her. His body lifted from her oriental garment and made quite a stir.
He set off the smoke alarm, and managed to wake her ancestors up. Before she knew it, the old woman’s visions had to get up.
In her third floor apartment, tiny as it was, there arose such a gathering of JUST BECAUSE.
Her fine china started rattling. The water in the teapot steamed, and from the corner of her lavender bedroom, the tail of the black dragon kept time, the finest she had ever seen.
The old woman fumbled, and reached for her wired glasses. When she saw the dragon’s tail come at her, she quickly ducked and covered with seven, long red haired lasses.
Giggling like school girls, they hid under the bed. They saw the dragon’s mighty tail and feared the dragon’s mighty head.
The house smelled of flowers, rather strange it seemed. Who has ever heard of a dragon that smelled pretty, a dream that dreamed?
They waited for the dragon’s tail to move from where they were hiding. They wanted to check out this mighty lizard, that by now, was being very quiet, and very law abiding.
The seven, long red haired lasses were as cute as bug ears. They were ancestral spirits sent from Ireland to wash away the old woman’s fears.
They each had a fiddle, and freckles on their noses. It was quite a morning, a dragon, seven, long red haired lasses, and a house that smelled of roses.
The seven, long red haired lasses fiddled. They played a Celtic tune. The old woman started singing, and the dragon began to croon.
Never in a million dreams could a dragon sing a song. It was as if destiny had brought “Beauty and the Beast” to this Irish motley throng.
He was a tenor with scales that all would love to climb. He could sing low notes, and his words were so divine.
He was a gift from China, the silk pajamas, the black dragon the old woman wore. He had been waiting for 100 years to sing this Irish score.
He sang with such gusto, with fire in his belly. The fiddlers fiddled and the old woman
called her sister Nelly.
Nelly had been dead for many years gone by. But JUST BECAUSE of the dragon, the old woman knew that time could really fly.
Nelly took a nap and came over to join the gang. It was a dream that began with a bang.
Heaven has a name for ancestors that fly, we call them angels JUST BECAUSE they are guardians that can teach us why.
Why in the world would an angel join this merry song, was it her sister, or the ties that make us strong?
Only in dreams could we settle such scores, a black dragon, seven, long red haired fiddlers, and a sister forever more.
The company was pleasant, the fragrance so divine. The fiddlers stopped fiddling and the dragon pulled up from behind.
In one final puff, the dragon lit a butt, he sat on the old woman’s red couch, and directed this far out dream’s final cut.
“Quiet on the set, fired the majestic beast. I am your good fortune, the Dragon from the East. Plain and simple the plot I have schemed. You are the dreamers, and I am the dream. There are no boundaries where love is found. I have roses on my breath. I am Earth bound. I sing for all dreamers, for time, it has a song. We are gathered together JUST BECAUSE we all belong. It is not the water that separates our shores, it is the kiss of death, the evil man implores. Pull all thoughts together in peace and harmony. JUST BECAUSE I was made in China, does not mean I am an impossible dream. Dreams need dreamers, and dreamers need dreams. We are family, forever together, or so it seems.”
Kathy Paysen 2013